


it's really a matter of perspective

by thirteenohtwo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenohtwo/pseuds/thirteenohtwo
Summary: A trap within a trap and cave confessions.





	it's really a matter of perspective

“We should really talk about the kiss.”

It’s not that Jester has horrible timing. It’s that she has  _such horrible fucking timing._  And even then, you know, Beau actually isn’t entirely certain she has horrible timing because she swears to Ioun and all the gods that lounge in the fucking clouds or whatever, Jester  _plans_  it half the time. It’s been a week. It’s been an entire damn week since they kissed and Jester hasn’t mentioned it once, hasn’t even hinted that she’s  _thought_  of it. She’s pretty sure Jester hasn’t even  _looked_  at her since the kiss.

But no, apparently she  _does_  want to talk about it because it  _did_ happen and Beau is so fucking tired. So tired and maybe a little nervous.

There’s gotta be a reason she hasn’t mentioned it before. A reason she didn’t even react to it, that she’s been living life like it never even happened.

She wants to pretend it didn’t or that it doesn’t mean anything. Of course it doesn’t. That would be… that would be ridiculous. They’re friends. Best friends. Best friends who would die for each other or, in this instance, would kiss for each other.

Listen. Listen. It’s not like she  _asked_  Jester to heal her with a kiss, okay? Sure, yeah, maybe she’s had the dream like a thousand times now, but she didn’t ask for it!

It wasn’t  _her_  fault that she woke up - thrust back into consciousness with the sharp agony of claws in her ribs. Something sweet like icing sugar on her lips that distracted her long enough for a cloud of warmth to soothe over the devastating pain in her side, until it was a mild burning and tugging ache when she moved. Lost amongst the feeling surging back through her body and fuck. Fuck. That had been so close. She might have died, maybe she died, was she about to die? Her eyes had fluttered open, desperate to know she was still alive, hands clutching something both soft and strong, warm as the energy healing her side.

Jester pulled back, her hands on either side of Beau’s face. Tears making purple eyes shine, a watery smile flashed her way. “Don’t  _ever_  do that again,” the words had fallen from her lips, angry and relieved, thumbs rubbing circles on Beau’s cheeks. Trying to convince herself that Beau was okay? Was alive?

And then she turned into a fucking ghost and Beau hasn’t  _seen_  her in a fucking week. Not until they found this nice little trap, literally dangling over a Pit Of Doom while the others look for something to cover the hole or a way to climb the cave wall.

“You’ve said that four times before immediately passing out now.”

“I have n-uuueghh… I don’t feel so good,” Jester mumbles and shakes her head.

Beau scoffs. “Stop moving so much! All the swinging is going to make it worse.”

“I’m not swinging, I’m just breathing, Beau!”

“You’re wiggling.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Look at me and look at you. You’re wiggling, you’re literally spinning right now,” Beau tells her. They both fall silent, waiting for Jester to revolve back around to face Beau. The monk wiggles her fingers. “Hey.”

Jester huffs and throws her arm out to point. “Well, how do you do it?!”

“I do the opposite of what you’re doing.”

“Beau, this isn’t funny. My head feels really, really full.”

Beau slowly raises… or lowers her hands. “I’m not laughing!”

“Okay. Good. Because it’s not funny.” They stare at one another, listening to Nott squawk a little ways down the tunnel. It echoes and they figure the gang is decently far away. “It’s maybe a little funny.”

“It’s very funny,” Caduceus tells them in a matter-of-fact way. They both lean back, feeling the blood rush to their face, to spot him down below and off to the side of the hole. He waves. “I’m here to help but I also think you should talk about the kiss.”

“Deucy,” Beau… well, just states. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here to keep you calm as you dangle precariously over your own death,” he tells her thoughtfully.

She blinks. “I am calm.”

“Only until Jester mentions the kiss.” Caduceus crosses his arms, lifting a hand to tap his chin. “That says something, you know. That you’re more comfortable around death than intimacy.”

“Kill me.”

“See?”

Jester holds out her arms, trying to stop her own spinning. “He’s very right, Beau. You’ve been ignoring it for a week!”

 _“I’ve_  been-?!” Beau sighs and scrubs a hand down her face. “Even if you were right, is  _now_  really the time?”

Jester pouts and even upside down it’s fucking adorable. “Now is always the right time, how could it not be?”

“We could die?”

She shrugs. “We could always die and it’s just more incentive. If you don’t say it  _now_ , you might never get to!”

“One can hope.”

“Beau! Don’t be mean!”

“Or what? You’re going to stare at me until they get us down? Oh, wait…”

The pout on Jester’s face shifts into something a little more determined. “Are you just being a dick so I get upset and forget about the kiss?”

“Should I be offended you think my natural default is a dick? Does it not make you a dick, too?”

A gasp tears from her throat and she reaches for the monk. “Beau, I said you’re being a dick, I don’t think you  _are_  a dick.”

“I think you are a dick.”

Caduceus frowns. “Stop throwing dicks around up there.”

With a grunt, Jester leans forwards and then back really quickly. “You’re such a child, Beau.”

“Says the girl swinging so hard doughnuts are falling out of her pockets,” Beau grumbles and cracks, breaking off into a chuckle. “You look ridiculous, Jess. Stop swinging.”

“I’m coming to get you, Beau.”

“Seriously, these ropes could be hundreds of years old. Stop moving,” Beau warns.

Even Caduceus watches on nervously, holding his hands up as if he could catch them should they fall. Jester sticks her tongue out, fingers brushing against Beau’s vestments. “Are you mad I kissed you?”

“I-no, what?” Beau shakes her head, torn between embarrassment and making sure Jester doesn’t kill herself. “Jester, come on, this is danger-oof!”

 _“Haha, gotcha!”_  Jester cackles and squeezes her arms around Beau until she groans. “Oh, sorry.”

“What the fuck.”

Jester’s tail winds around Beau’s thigh, lavender and sweetness invading her senses, sharp teeth biting into a plump blue lip. “Hi.”

Beau grunts and sighs. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry for kissing you, Beau.” The smile on her face is… different than normal. It’s tight but weak, a shadow of its brilliant glory. “I didn’t mean to make things weird between us? I was just scared and happy you were okay, and I think you’re very handsome, and sometimes I wonder about kissing you. And then I  _was_  kissing you and it wasn’t at all like Fjord’s - despite the similarities. Both were to save a life, that’s pretty crazy, but also maybe it was just another thing I wanted to do before I couldn’t, you know?”

Silence echoes down the tunnel, the both of them slowly twirling over the pit. Beau blinks hard, forces clarity into her pressurized thoughts, and wills her head to stop feeling like it’s about to explode. She licks her lips - watches Jester glance down and follow the movement, and swallows her heart back down. “I kinda wanna make an assumption but, like, I’ll also wanna die if I’m wrong.”

It’s an incredible feat, how Jester can look concerned and giddy at the same time. “I feel like reckless abandon works pretty well for us,” Jester whispers as a darker blue creeps into her cheeks. “Say it before you can’t.”

“You’re fucking beautiful, and funny, and sweet, and I like you more than I should,” Beau blurts out quickly. “A million scenarios I’ve played through with this moment and Caduceus wasn’t in a single one.”

Jester giggles and Caduceus hums distractedly, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just making sure you don’t die.”

“You’re doing it again,” Jester notes in a pleased sort of way.

“What?”

Her tail tightens and she shifts, hooking her arm around Beau’s waist so her other hand can reach up to cup a sharp face, to run a thumb along a smooth jaw. “That thing where you downplay yourself and hope nobody notices? Like anytime you say something personal or important, you try to sneak it by without anyone really realizing until later when you’re gone.”

The monk frowns. “Nuh uh.”

“Beau, you just told me you love me and then pointed at Cad who has nothing to do with anything.”

Brown cheeks burn and Jester coos. “I didn’t say love and Deuces is just as much a part of this moment as either of us.”

“You’re hopelessly, horrendously, unfathomably in love with me!” Jester sings brightly.

“Okay, maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoes with interest. “I can work with maybe.”

“What does that  _mean_ , Jes? Do you… fuck, do you like me?” Beau almost begs. She has to know. She needs to know.

Jester smiles bashfully.  _“Maybe_  I really, really like you a whole lot, Beau.”

“Gods, Jester, you need to work on your communication skills.”

“That’s what the kiss was for!” she pouts again.

“Oh, right. We need to be right side up, I can’t really think like this,” Beau muses.

Tapping his staff, Caduceus lights up the tip as the others wander back towards them. “Yeah, you passed out a little bit in the middle there, Miss Beau.”

With a grunt, Yasha drops the long board across the hole to the other side they came from. It’s decently wide but, most importantly, easy to reach with Feather Fall. “You guys okay up there?” she calls softly.

Jester shakes Beau a little bit until blue eyes focus again. “Before I can’t,” she murmurs with a glint in her eye.

And steals a kiss that’s just a kiss this time. Raspberry against Beau’s tongue, lips clumsy but so very certain, with the force of a thousand floating unicorns…

“Jester, are you casting while we kiss?”


End file.
